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Life is funny, isn't it? You never really know what's around the next corner. Could be a miracle one day and then a tragedy the next. I guess the most recent development in my life could be seen as either one depending on how you look at it or what you believe. One day you're just a normal guy worrying about school and work, and the next you're obsessing over an (extremely) inappropriate crush that you can't seem to shake. Then, all of a sudden, you find yourself underneath that crush as she slides up and down on your... well, you already know that part.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that there is no way I could've prepared myself for the rollercoaster that was the last year of my life, especially the last few weeks. In case you missed it, the reason my crush is so inappropriate is because... she's my mom. Yes, my actual, blood-related, biological mother. And I'm the runt of the litter, Bradley, her human-born son in a world of animal-people. If I wasn't an outcast before, which I definitely already was, then the current circumstances of my already bizarre existence had solidified my status as an outcast. Because, as it turned out, the crush I had on my mother wasn't one-sided but was, in fact, mutual. And so, after a night of revelation, desperation, and perhaps a lapse in judgment, my mother and I had found ourselves in an entirely new world embroiled in secrets, deception, and lust.

Fast forward to now, three weeks since it happened.

Initially, I couldn't stomach what had happened. The guilt and anxiety were nearly too much to bear, and all I wanted to do was go back in time before I ever even entertained the thought at our neighbour's annual pool party. But as you may also know, a couple of restless days later, Mom and I sat down in her room and talked for a long while. I finally expressed the turmoil I'd been feeling, a release that was just as satisfying as any orgasm I'd felt up until that point. She comforted me by revealing how her feelings regarding our "situation" nearly mirrored mine. We both laid all of our cards on the table, finding solace in the shared trauma we'd concocted, but also... in the pleasure we'd shared. When we weighed out the heavy pros and cons of this new stage in our relationship, we collectively came to the conclusion that we had made the right decision that night. As turbulent and terrifying as it was at the start, neither one of us had ever experienced anything like it. To put it simply, it was magical. It may have seemed twisted or horrendous in the eyes of others, but it felt like something both of us needed more than anything else. It felt right. It was far from perfect or anything resembling the word, but by the end of our conversation in Mom's room that evening, we both found ourselves on the same page, wanting to nurture and evolve that experience together.

Now, you'd think because of how that conversation ended that we would've been all over each other again within 24 hours. But as I mentioned earlier, life is funny in that way, because despite how ready and rearing to go we were when we finished talking, it had now been a whole three weeks since then, and we hadn't laid so much as a finger on one another. Well, besides hugs before bed, I suppose.

I know, I know, you're probably thinking something like, "Are you a fucking moron? Go get some already!" And you know, I'd definitely agree with you nowadays. But you also have to understand how delicate of a situation it still was at that time. Not to mention how little experience and confidence I still had with sex in general. So please, try to cut me some slack.

First of all, after the immense amount of turmoil I experienced in the fallout of our first time, I needed a few days to recuperate. I was so sleep-deprived that everything since my last shift at work had felt like a dream. I don't think I'd ever had a headache like that in my life. I'd already missed a day of work, and I didn't want to miss any more. It may have only been a summer job, but I didn't want my "troubles" at home getting me fired and potentially hurting my reputation in the community.

Woolhope wasn't a very big town, and most everybody knew each other to some extent. Getting a job as someone most people looked down on was already a difficult task, so getting my head on straight was not only important for my sanity but also to get me back in working shape.

After our talk, I returned to work the next day and hadn't needed any time off since, allowing me to return to some semblance of normalcy and get back into a routine. Over the course of the week, I was back at work, dinner with the family was no longer like walking on eggshells, and for the first time in a long while, things seemed to be looking up. But it still didn't feel like the right time to "dive back in," so to speak.

Secondly, since it was mid-August, summer was quickly coming to a close. School was right around the corner for all three of us kids, which meant Mom was in overdrive trying to get us all ready in time. At age ten, Benny obviously needed the most support in that regard. He still needed the classic supply pack of coloured pencils, scissors, glue, binders... you get it, the whole shebang. Jess and I, on the other hand, stressed probably a million-something odd times that we didn't need anything. She was starting her first year of college while I was heading into my senior year, neither of which were years where "the whole shebang" was needed any longer. A binder, a couple of pencils, and some paper—that was about it. Jess didn't even need those since she was going to be bringing her laptop, and I was still surviving off the ones I got back in tenth grade.

But alas, Mom still ran around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to get us things. Thankfully, she knew we didn't need the arts and crafts supplies anymore, but she still felt the need to make sure we at least had some new clothes for our first days back. Don't get me wrong, it's very appreciated, of course, but I just wish she didn't stress herself out so much over it. So in short, Mom was busy being a good mother to all of her kids, rather than being a really naughty mother with one of them (not to name names...).

Thirdly, while I didn't fully realize it at the time, neither one of us was certain about making the first move. Yes, we'd come to an understanding that seemed relatively clear, but at the same time, we were treading extremely unfamiliar territory that required an extensive amount of discretion, nuance, and restraint. I couldn't just walk into the kitchen, pull down Mom's panties, and plow her against the kitchen counter. And as much as I'm sure we both would've loved that, that's where the three principles I listed above came into play. We couldn't give a single one of our family members a morsel of evidence that could reveal what we were up to behind closed doors. We had to account for every possible scent, sound, and sight that could raise even the slightest bit of suspicion. So due to the delicacy of the situation, we were both hesitant to make the first (or second, I guess) move.

And ultimately, we were still mother and son. We may have come to terms with the line we'd crossed and were excited by the potential future of our new relationship, but it still felt uncomfortable to approach each other for the purpose of something that only a couple should be doing together. I know it was for me at least, as I still hadn't been the one to initiate such a thing.

Whether or not you agree with me or if you're ripping your hair out over the fact that I still hadn't made a move on the mouth-watering MILF I shared a home with, I hope you can at least understand where I'm coming from. Unless you've been in this situation yourself—which statistically, you probably haven't—then you most likely can't relate to just how complex of a situation this is. So please, I ask you respectfully, try to be patient with me.

But let me tell you, if it's smut you're looking for, then look no further than the fantasies I was conducting in my head each night. My gosh, I could fill a book with all of the scenarios I'd imagined since the night we talked. I didn't look at the pictures of her I stole, and I no longer watched porn. Frankly, I didn't really want either. I experienced the real thing, and soon, I'd experience it again. I could now imagine Mom more vividly than ever, conjuring up scenes and images more stimulating than anything I could ever get from looking at a screen. And as delicious as my fantasies were, they still wouldn't have anything on the real thing when that inevitably came to pass. But until then, I let my mind run absolutely rampant.

I laid there on my bed in the dark with my eyes shut tight and my throbbing erection in hand; my gorgeous, voluptuous she-wolf mother paying me a visit whenever I needed her. In this world, everything was up to me. They typically started with her sneaking into my room, the pale moonlight only just allowing me to make out her curvaceous form. This version of Mom never wore clothes, strutting around the house naked and putting it all on display for me. She'd quietly shut the door behind her and giggle with excitement when she saw me waiting for her. Her double-D's and her thighs would jiggle as she made her way over to join me on the bed. She'd never say no when I asked her to sit on my face or lie on her back so that I could taste her divine folds before we made a mess of them. She'd nearly be brought to tears from the pleasure of her oldest son dining out on her motherhood, moaning and gasping into the night the name she herself had given him. This version of my mother would then raise her round, thick bottom into the air and beg the boy she raised to have his way with whichever one of her orifices he saw fit. The boy could never decide which of his mother's openings to make his own, so as the greedy and entitled young man he was, he would claim both, alternating between the two at regular intervals. They would carry on like this for as long as they could muster, their moans for one another harmonizing into an incestuous song that played loudly into the night. Her buttocks would become sore from how tightly he gripped them, and he would be covered in sweat from head to toe from laying into her endlessly. This version of my mother, the version that would never dream of making her son wear protection for their passionate, leg-numbing encounters, would then howl like a feral beast as her furless offspring filled whichever of her entrances he was enjoying the most at the time of climax.

And... this was about the time where I'd return to reality to find myself panting and empty, my belly and chest a little worse for wear.

Sorry about that. Lost myself for a second there. She did that to me, though.

But one of the best parts about these new, hyper-realistic fantasies was that I no longer felt ashamed for indulging in them like I did a month prior. They were now a viable, captivating, and nearly addicting way to channel my urges in the downtime between me and Mom's actual encounters. Which, at the time, I still wasn't one hundred percent certain would be continuing given the time that'd passed since our talk.

Sure, we both said we wanted to continue, but if that was the case, why did it feel like we were stuck in limbo? I knew I wanted her, but... did she still want me? It was beginning to feel almost like a distant dream, and there were times—usually in that short, dazy period between consciousness and sleep—where I questioned if what happened had even happened at all.

Another few days had passed until we came around to another Friday. This Friday in particular actually just so happened to be the one-month anniversary of the night Mom and I "sealed the deal," an occasion that only held significance for two people on the entire planet. And even then, it was starting to feel less significant by the day.

But thankfully, I was lucky enough to get the day-off from work. So, it was hard to complain about a long weekend right before school was about to start, even if it wasn't as eventful as I would've liked.

You see, I was never one to "go out" a whole lot on weekends. For me, not having to be at school or work or anywhere else was a reward in itself. Not that I never went out on weekends, because, believe it or not, I did have a couple of friends. Don't get me wrong, I was still as big of an outcast as I've previously described, but I was still lucky enough to find two kind-hearted souls that didn't care about being judged for hanging with the "furless freak." Nyla and Danny. Without the two of them, I'm not sure I would've made it through high school (or elementary for that matter).

Luckily for me, neither one of them loved going out on weekends either. We caught the odd movie now and again, grabbed food at one of the local spots, or occasionally hung out at one of our houses, but the majority of the time, we opted for gaming online together; a consensus that was perfectly fine with me.

So, as I mentioned earlier, I was disappointed my day off wasn't more eventful. This isn't because I had any grand plans with my buddies or anything like that, but rather, more importantly, because my brother and sister were both out of the house. If you aren't "catching my drift," then let me spell it out: a Friday with no work where neither of my siblings were home meant there was nothing in the way of Mom and I spending the day sucking and fucking; something I was beginning to become desperate for.

I thought about it all week; I thought about her all week. But, of course, me being the shitty communicator I was, I didn't even once think to ask Mom about her plans for the day. By the time Friday rolled around, she'd already made plans to go out for coffee and some shopping with her girlfriends. So there I was, home alone, sitting on the couch, and twiddling my thumbs like an idiot when I probably could've been having sex instead had I just thought to open my damn mouth for once.

I'd be slapping my forehead if it wasn't too cartoonish.

I filled this lonely Friday's afternoon hours with grilled cheese, video games, and a few episodes of a show I'd been watching at the time, but none of it filled the insatiable need I had to get my dick wet. Nothing was a sufficient substitute for the long-awaited follow-up to me and Mom's intimate exchange a month earlier.

*DING*

Just as I was about to go completely stir crazy, I got a text. It was Mom.

"Hey, honey. Hope you're enjoying your day off. Would you mind taking out some pitas from the freezer? I thought we could all have some oven-pizzas and watch a movie tonight. Sound good?"

Not exactly the type of message my heart-skipped a beat for. It was getting to a point where every time I saw a message from her pop-up on my phone, I hoped it would be something sex-related. A promise of a late-night rendezvous, an invite to a shower, or even just something flirty would go a long way. I could be patient, but I did not expect this long of a wait. Oven pizzas sounded great, but I'd much rather be stuffing something in her oven. Sorry about that one, but it's true.

"Sure, sounds good!" I replied, feigning enthusiasm.

I let my phone drop to my desk with a loud clunk, a sign of frustration that probably would've been recognized had there been a single other soul in the house to hear it. I was very tempted to just come out and say it: "Are we gonna fuck again?" Or maybe, "I wanna have sex tonight." A simple, "I'm horny," maybe could've worked, too.

Honestly, there's a possibility that any one of those messages could've gotten me what I wanted, but the same fear that prevented me from approaching her in person was the same one that stopped me from texting her something like that. I didn't want Mom to think I was super desperate or that all I wanted from her was sex (yes, obviously sex was on my mind a lot). We could maybe never go back to the way things were, but she was still my mother at the end of the day, and there were still many other elements to our relationship that I wanted to try and preserve, whether that was still possible or not. And to top it off, one other reason for my inaction was that I was considering the possibility of somebody else seeing a message like that pop up on her phone. Mom had a tendency to keep her phone out on tables, counters, and other surfaces, so the idea of one of her friends catching a glance at a promiscuous message from her son was not out of the realm of possibility. That would be a big no-no.

A few hours later, my family members began rolling in one at a time, starting with Benny, who'd just gotten dropped off by his friend's mother.

"Hey buddy, did you have fun at Caleb's?" I asked, opening the door for him.

He ran inside past me, blowing through the living room like a hurricane and clearly hopped up on some amount of sugar.

"Yeah! We ate candy and watched a movie and played games and—" and the list went on.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and interrupted his lap around the couch, "Haha, okay, take it easy, bud. Let's not break anything or hurt ourselves now."

"When's Mom coming home? What's for dinner? Can we watch a movie?" His questions coming out like a machine gun.

"Soon, pizza, and yes," I replied cheekily. "Now how about you go wash up and try to come down off that sugar high, 'kay?"

Benny nodded before bolting up the stairs, his tail wagging like a helicopter propeller behind him. Sometimes his boundless energy could be a little much, but he was a good kid, and I couldn't help but find it endearing for the most part.

The next family member to arrive was my older sister. Not exactly the woman I was looking for, but a woman nonetheless.

"Hey, Jess," I greeted.

"Hey," she replied in her usual disaffected tone, not even looking up from her cell to acknowledge me. She walked past me and right up the stairs.

How would I describe my relationship with my sister? Hmmm... In a word: non-existent. Well, not completely. We were close in our early teens. We hung out, played together, went to the mall; you know, sibling stuff. But once she became a sophomore, her social life and academics became her world, and everyone else took the backseat. She ate on her own time, slept on her own time, and came and went as she pleased. The house was more a motel than a home to her by that point.

Benny could get through to her more than I could, and so could Mom when she flexed her parental authority. When it came to me, though, Jess seemed rather indifferent to any attempt I made at getting her attention. I'd probably have to do something really crazy... like doing her mother doggystyle in front of her. Yeah, that'd probably do it.

About thirty minutes later, the final member of our household finally arrived. Last but certainly not least: Mom. She was wearing a forest green turtleneck with navy blue jeans, both garments hugging her voluptuous figure. I loved that outfit on her, but frankly, she looked amazing in anything.

"Hi, honey," she said warmly as she put her purse down on the side table by the door.

"Hey, Mom," I replied, echoing her warmth but still not trying to seem too desperate.

She took off her brown leather boots and tucked them in the closet. I couldn't help but gawk at her butt and tail as she did so.

"Did you have a nice day off?" she asked, standing up straight and pulling me in for a hug.

Her lavender perfume delighted my nostrils, and her soft bosoms compressed against my chest. I could already tell that getting through the night normally would be a challenge.

The hug ended, and I did my best to maintain eye contact with her. "Pretty uneventful, but yeah, it was fine."

We both looked at each other with a lingering gaze. It wasn't awkward per se, but it was clear that there was tension between us. The palpable, sexual kind. It lasted probably about ten seconds or so, and I nearly used it as an opportunity to inquire about our next "meeting." If I'm being honest, though, what I really wanted to do in that moment was kiss her. Her purple eyes, her fur, her lovely scent, her outfit—everything about her was drop-dead gorgeous.

That was one of the first times I saw my mother in that light. I always thought she was beautiful; any fool could see that from miles away. But up until that point, most of my new feelings about Mom had been sexual (as I'm sure you could tell). This, however... this was a more...romantic feeling. One I came so close to acting on.

"I... I took the pitas out like you asked," I chose to say, breaking the silence in a less than meaningful way.

She double-blinked and subtly shook her head, almost like snapping herself out of a trance. That exchange meant more than I wanted to admit, and she wasn't letting me off that easy.

"You... you seem like there's something you wanted to say to me. What is it, Bradley?" She moved closer and put a hand on my left shoulder.

I tried to look elsewhere, but her eyes pulled me back and trapped me within their authority.

"Mom... I just... I—"

Before I could get anything out, Benny shot down the stairs, skipping the last two steps and landing like a pile of bricks.

"Mom! Mom! Mom! Guess what?!?"

She took her hand and her eyes off of me and turned towards her adrenaline-junkie, sugar-infused youngest son. "Benjamin Thomas Harper! You do NOT run down the stairs like that, do you HEAR me?!?!"

He halted to a stop in front of us, and the big smile on his face dropped three sizes.

I did not miss being on the receiving end of that tone. Say what you will about my Mom's recent parenting decisions (you know which I'm referring to), but when it came to disciplinary action, she knew how to wield the hammer better than anyone. And she let you know it.

"Sorry, Mom..." Benny enunciated disappointingly, looking down at his feet.

"If you keep acting like a monkey, you're either gonna break something in the house or you're gonna break your neck," she said sternly.

He nodded.

She exhaled loudly, trying to recapture her base level of calm.

I just stood there quietly and waited for the storm to pass. That was usually my go-to when Jess or Benny would get in trouble. I didn't want to catch any strays, and I knew pretty well by then when my input was appreciated and when it wasn't. And in this particular instance, I was extremely horny, and I didn't want anything to hurt my chances, especially when things between Mom and me were already in an uncertain, limbo-like place.

"Now, your brother and I were thinking pizzas and a movie tonight. You can get in on it if you can manage to not be bouncing off the walls for the rest of the night," she negotiated.

Benny's tail wagged, and his big, youthful grin returned to full power.

"Haha, sound good, my little racecar?" She chuckled after reaching down and ruffling the fur on his head.

"Not just good, great!" he shouted with glee in a silly voice.

Mom turned to me to possibly continue the interaction we were having before Benny interrupted, but I'd already headed into the kitchen to start cooking. I didn't really know what I would've said at that point, but it didn't matter because it wasn't anything that could be said with my little brother around.

So, despite the desperate longing for my mother and the occasional knowing glances we exchanged throughout, it was a pretty typical Friday night. The pizzas turned out pretty good, the comedy we picked was actually pretty funny, and much to our surprise, Jess joined us for all of the festivities. And of course, Dad was nowhere to be seen. While it maybe didn't meet all of my needs, it was pretty hard to beat a night-in at home with the family like that.

But when the dishes were done and all four of us had parted ways for the evening, I still felt the same way I did before the fun we all had. Desperate, annoyed, and confused.

At about 1am, I found myself in the same place I'd been for the past month, lying in the same position, staring at the same splotch of water damage on the ceiling, and pondering the same question: when was it gonna happen again?

To be completely honest, I was becoming rather bitter about the whole situation by that point. I was frustrated with myself for not having the balls to make the first move. I was frustrated with Mom for not taking the lead when she obviously had way more experience at this sort of thing. And most of all, I was extremely frustrated by the lack of communication. I felt like I was stuck in this messy, silly, sexless limbo where I would be trapped forever.

The fantasies were no longer cutting it. I wanted the real thing. I needed it. Or at least, some version of it. I hopped up out of bed, huffing and puffing my way over to my laptop on my desk. I aggressively flipped the screen open and booted it up. Despite everything that had happened since, I felt bad about keeping her photos, believe it or not. Mom never explicitly told me to delete them, and after all of the use I'd gotten out of them, I just didn't have the strength to do it. What if things didn't work out? What if we decided that all of this was just a big mistake? If that were to happen, the photos on my laptop would be the only way to see my mother like that ever again.

But even though I had access to them all the way along, I still didn't feel right about looking at them after that night. Mom bared it all to me—in person, for real. Sure, what she did with me was crossing a line far more than looking at photos ever could. But the fact of the matter was that they weren't my photos to have. I stole them from her, and that was wrong. Did I regret it? After everything... definitely not. But it still felt wrong to look at them. So in the month following our "entanglement," I didn't look at her photos once.

On this particular night, however, my frustration and my lust had turned me ravenous. All of that restraint, all of the "moral boundaries" I tried to maintain; I was ready to throw them out of the window. I was done waiting.

Just as I moved the cursor over top of the folder with the photos, two clicks away from instant, unearned satisfaction... my nightstand vibrated. The light from the notification lit up my dark bedroom. While I couldn't tell who it was from, I could see that it was a text message notification.

Frankly, I thought everyone in the house had gone to bed already. As the resident night owl, I was usually the last one up past 11pm. So imagine my surprise when I walked over, picked up my phone, and unlocked the screen to find an SMS notification... from my mother.

"Are you still up?" it read.

My heart skipped a beat as I read it. As I'm sure most of you do, too, I had a feeling of where this late-night question might lead.

My hands began to tremble, and I struggled to type out a four-letter response, "Yeah." Sending that text felt like a monumental step for some reason. It may have also had something to do with the significance of the next message she replied with:

"Can you come see for a minute?"

Another couple of beats were skipped. If I hadn't already known why my physical reactions were happening, I would've been worried. Based on the last time, however, ringing ears, a flustered face, and an irregular heartbeat were all signs of good things to come.

I don't even remember the walk from my room to hers. The next thing I remembered was opening her door.

And there she was.

My husky mother lounged on the queen-sized bed, her back against the wall and her legs stretched out towards me, one crossed over the other. She had a book in hand with her reading glasses parked halfway down her muzzle. Her tail stuck out to the left. If she was dressed modestly, this would have been a rather ordinary scene, but her attire was anything but. And, of course, that was the first thing my horny ass noticed.

Mom was wearing the same robe she had the night she paid me a visit, only this time, she didn't bother to tie it up. Instead, she left it wide open.

Intentionally. For me.

I couldn't see much given her pose and the book she was holding, but the light from her ceiling fan was more than enough to see a gorgeous set of skimpy, black lace lingerie. The top hugged her white, fur-covered breasts together in a way that made them look even bigger, and her bottom was tucked in so tight that the contour of a mature, maternal cameltoe was visible through the fabric. Her legs and belly were bare save for her lovely, groomed, grey and white coat. To put it simply… she looked un-fucking-believable.

It felt like an eternity that I was ogling her perfect, nearly naked form, but in reality, it had only been a few normal, non-awkward seconds since I entered her room (thank goodness).

"Hi, sweetheart." She looked up at me from her book before placing a bookmark in place and shutting it. "Please, come in. Sit with me," she offered, patting an empty spot on the bed beside her.

I quickly obeyed, walking over and sitting next to her on the bed, trying not to gawk at her body too much while doing so. I didn't really know what to say, but it felt weird that I didn't say a word yet, so I just spoke what came to mind.

"What... *ahem* what are you doing up still?" I stuttered.

She took her glasses off and placed them next to her book on the nightstand to the left. "Ah, I don't know." She gazed at me, her eyes lingering for a time. "Just a bit restless, you know?"

I nodded, using every fibre of my strength to maintain eye contact. "Yeah, I know. I've been feeling the same way."

She smiled softly, a cute chuckle/snort escaping her nostrils.

We sat in silence for a moment. She looked at me while I looked around the room. I was trying so hard not to look at her that I probably seemed repulsed by her appearance.

"It's okay if you look, you know..." Mom said almost teasingly.

I chuckled nervously, slowly turning my head to face her. Now that I had permission, I blatantly looked her curvaceous form up and down. My mouth watered and my loins pulsed.

"Mom... I..." I began.

She cut me off, "Can I ask you something, honey?"

"Yeah. Of course, Mom."

She lounged back again, subtly took the edges of her robe, and pulled it open a bit wider. "When you see me like this... how does it make you feel?"

Despite the progress we'd made, I still felt shy and self-conscious. She was still my mom, and all of this was still so new and confusing. I know it maybe seemed like all lights were green, and it was a no-brainer. But there were so many conflicting emotions and urges that it made it hard to think.

"I, uh... I don't know." That was a lie, of course, but I wasn't certain the answer of "I want to fuck you silly" would come across well. All of this felt so difficult to put into words, even if she made it so easy.

She sat up straight to get a bit closer to me. She spoke softly, "It's okay, baby. Just be honest with me. You can tell Mommy anything."

I wasn't sure why she was leading me like this or if there was a right or wrong answer to her question. Referring to herself in the third person like that, though... I didn't mind whatsoever. That was often how she referred to herself when we were growing up, but now... it took on a whole new inflection.

I just sat there like a dope, speechless and clueless. It was almost as if I hadn't learned a damn thing from everything that had transpired up until that point. And so once again, we sat in an awkward silence created and accentuated by yours truly. I took another look at her heavenly figure before taking my gaze on a tour around my parent's bedroom once again.

Mom let out a small sigh, which made me feel even more like a moron than before. Not only did I have zero confidence with sexuality, but now I was beginning to hurt her feelings. I didn't deserve her. Not as a mother, and certainly not as anything more. At least, that's how it felt for a moment.

I felt her reach down and grab my hand. She took mine into hers and began to speak.

"You know, you're the only man who's looked at me like that in years."

I turned and faced her again.

"Not your father. Not anyone. Nobody has looked at me with that same appreciation, same interest, same excitement as you have."

I looked down at her chest, then back into her eyes.

"Since that night... I know it's been hard. It's been strange."

I nodded, squeezing her hand back.

"Even since the talk we had, things still haven't fully made sense. And I don't know, maybe they never will." She scooted her mostly exposed body closer to me. "But I've seen the way you look at me. The way you keep looking at me. When I bend over, when I'm in a towel after a shower, or even just like earlier when we're alone together."

I gulped. My hands were clammy, my face was definitely tomato red, and my heart was pounding out of my chest.

"And the photos..." she began.

My entire body tensed up. Those damn photos felt like a curse more than anything.

"Your father rarely even replied when I sent him those. Do you have any idea how crushing that is?"

The rhetorical question stung, as my opinion of my father sank even lower.

"But you... you loved them, didn't you? You liked them so much you copied them to your computer."

At first I felt like I was in trouble again, until I realized how she was framing it. She took my theft and excessive masturbation over her photos as a compliment.

We looked into each other's eyes as she finished her point.

"Look. Baby. I know we did what we did. I know we both enjoyed it. I know we talked about it. Honestly, these past few weeks... I was waiting for you to come to me. I wanted you to express to me the look I've seen in your eyes."

Ah. Now it finally made sense. She was waiting for me to make the first move. That... probably should've been obvious.

"But I'm sorry for putting all of that on you. I didn't mean to play with your feelings or anything. I just wanted to feel... wanted, again."

Another brief pause befell the room.

"So please, honey...."

She brought her face close to mine and looked deep into my eyes. "How do you feel when you see me like this?"

She smelled so good. Lavender and some sort of berry. This was it. This was my moment to make everything right. So I took it.

I broke eye contact and looked down at my hands. I gulped and inhaled deeply. "I...want...to take your clothes off," I confessed.

Mom blushed, and her eyes fluttered. Even though she was expecting something along those lines, the arousal and affirmation she felt from my words had her taken aback.

"I want to see you naked. I want to have sex with you again so badly that I can't even think straight. You're all I've thought about for over a year. You are so unbelievably sexy no matter the context; I just can't stop staring at you. Maybe that's wrong, but I don't give a fuck anymore. You might be my mom, but the night you had sex with me was the best night of my life."

Everything just sort of came out. One confession after another, rapid-fire. But it was the full, unedited truth. And it felt so fucking amazing to finally get it out. Our other talk helped, but we were both still holding back then. Not anymore.

"Oh, Bradley..."

Mom grabbed my shirt and pulled my face against hers. She pushed her muzzle against my mouth and slipped her tongue inside. Her breath was hot, her lips were moist, and her suction was desperate. Finally getting the hang of it, I began to suck and lick back.

There we sat. The room was silent save for the gentle whirring of the ceiling fan and incestuous lip smacking. I was officially making out with my mom. An equal kiss where I gave as much as she did. It was magical.

We kissed and kissed for a few minutes. My dick throbbed and ached for the entirety of it. As amazing as her upper lips were, I couldn't wait any longer. I needed her lower ones as well. I pulled away from her, gently releasing the hot seal we'd created with our mouths.

"I need you, Mom. I need you so bad," I pleaded desperately.

Her eyes half-lidded, she replied with a whisper, "Go lock the door."

I don't think I'd ever moved so fast in my life. I hopped up from the bed and jogged over to the door, quickly flicking the latch. By the time I turned around, Mom had already discarded her robe and thrown it to the side.

"Mom..." I practically moaned.

"Let's get you undressed," she cooed.

I reconvened with her on the bed. We kissed again briefly before she helped take my shirt off. It was clear from the speed at which this was all happening that both of us no longer had any doubts holding us back. All we wanted was to be naked and to feel that same forbidden connection we'd only scratched the surface of. We were so ready.

I leaned back and pulled off my pyjama pants and boxers simultaneously. We both paused to take in the significance of this moment as I presented myself to my mother. It hadn't been that long since she'd seen it last, but that didn't stop her eyes from widening and her cheeks from blushing.

Even I was a little surprised by how impressive my erection looked. It was only six and a half inches, but it was thick, girthy, and so hard that my foreskin could no longer fully conceal the tip, the tip with a drop of pre-cum at the end of it. But it didn't matter what I thought, because Mom couldn't take her eyes off of it. Her eyes trailed the length of my shaft and filled up with what I can only describe as pure lust.

"I... I really get you that excited?" she asked, deeply flattered.

I looked into her eyes once again, "Oh, Mom... you're the only one who gets me like this."

She smiled shyly, spreading her legs open a bit wider. "Come here, sweetie."

I got on the bed with her, crawling on all fours until I was nearly hovering over her.

Mom reached up and put her fuzzy digits on my right cheek. "You said you wanted to take my clothes off?"

I nodded, trembling slightly. She smiled again.

"Then go ahead, honey." Then, she straightened her legs out towards me so I could remove her panties.

I can't stress this enough: I'd never been so excited for anything in my entire life. Maybe this experience is unique to me, but when your gorgeous, busty, sweet, thick MILF of a mother invites you to take her panties off, it's a dream come true. Yes, my nervousness that made this entire ordeal way more complicated than it needed to be was still present. However, by the grace of some higher power, one that must've believed in burying your cock inside your own mother, my debilitating nerves and awkwardness had finally taken a backseat. I felt focused. I felt determined.

Which is why I didn't hesitate any further. I leaned forward and slipped my fingers into either side of her black lace waistband. I looked up at Mom for permission one last time. She bit her lip and nodded.

My heart fluttered as I began to pull down. As I mentioned before, they were tight, so they required more pull than I would've thought. My hands glided down the length of her outer thighs, grazing her grey fur as they went. Her panties came with them. Just as I was about to see it, she arched her legs upwards for my convenience. I pulled the garment down her calves to her ankles, and soon after, off of her feet.

I didn't toss them to the side. I set them down gently, with care. Almost as if I saw them as some prized, holy item. But now that they were out of the way, a pregnant pause followed. Mom's knees were still up, and I just kneeled on the bed before her. We looked at one another, our breaths already laboured. What was about to happen was a significant, undeniable first. I'd seen her before. She gave herself to me before. But never had she presented herself to me. Presented herself to her son.

It was perhaps the most vulnerable, generous position a woman could put herself in, and my own mother was about to do it for me.

And so she did.

Mom slowly, sensually, opened her legs for me. Like curtains lifting at the start of a play, her knees and thighs parted ways, and between them lay the object of my desires. The most perfect vagina I'd ever seen.

My dick pulsed violently, and my heart beat like a drum.

I hadn't gotten a good look at it the first time, but now I could see her in all of her glory. Her labia was thick and fuzzy, puffy enough to conceal her lips. They only opened up when her knees just about touched the bedding. That's when her pink folds appeared.

It felt like a miracle. Something I was never supposed to witness, but something that I'd been given the humbling privilege to see. Most boys never got to see their mothers like this, but I did.

Mom blushed at my not-so-subtle reaction to her womanhood. Frankly, I think she was relishing in the attention.

She also must've figured out that I was a little distracted by what she had between her legs, because she went ahead and took off her top instead of waiting for me to do it. If she wasn't already divine enough, now her perfect boobs were out too.

I felt so out of my depth. She wasn't just out of my league; she was out of my universe. But as easy as it could've been to collapse under the weight of the immense intimidation I felt, I somehow put it out of my mind. I wasn't going to blow this. Not now. Not anymore.

"I'm ready for you, honey," she cooed.

"I'm ready for you, too, Mom," I affirmed.

I crawled over top of my mother, placing my hands under her armpits and resting my knees between her thighs. She spread them a bit wider as I positioned myself. She put her hands on my shoulders and smiled up at me. Like a crane lowering its load, I lowered my hips between her legs. I then reached down and took my erection into my hand, getting ready to line it up with Mom's entrance. I found myself quivering as I did so, struggling to hold myself up with one arm with how much my nerves were making me tremble.

"It's okay, baby. Take your time," she comforted me.

Even as she waited for me to mount her, she was just as supportive and caring as ever. Not much different than when she taught me how to ride my bike, or do math homework, or do my own laundry. I definitely still needed teaching, but only now, it wasn't a bike I'd be riding.

I lowered my hips just a tad more, and then... we both jolted. My throbbing tip prodded her equally as aroused clitoris. It wasn't quite my target, but that alone was enough to send shockwaves of pleasure through both of our cores.

"Bradley..."

"Mom..."

My dick twitched from the heat coming off her opening. If this mere amount of stimulation was already making me react in that way, then I was in trouble. I could already tell this would be another short session. But frankly, I don't think either of us cared about that by this point. If something as simple as a quick poke already felt so good, then a minute or two of full contact would be earth-shattering.

I repositioned myself, using my shaky hand to guide the increasingly angry appendage to its destination. I was becoming dizzy from the arousal and was trembling even more than before. Thinking I was on target, I thrusted my hips forward. My tip stabbed her labia. We both grunted again, and even though the contact felt good, it was still nothing compared to being enveloped by Mom's warmth.

I let out a frustrated exhale as I tried not to be overcome with embarrassment. My brow now glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, and my arms that I rested on were nearly buckling under my weight. Thankfully for me, Mom was there to save the day (as always).

"Here, honey. Let me help," she spoke softly.

She took one of her hands off my shoulders and lowered it between our legs. I felt her soft digits wrap around my length before a gentle pull guided me in the direction I wanted to go.

Turns out I was pretty close, because about a second after I felt her take me into her hand and followed by a small adjustment, she said, "Try now, handsome."

So I did.

I pushed my hips forward. Not too fast and not too deep, but just enough. And just like that—after all that unnecessary drama and turmoil—I was inside of my mother once again.

"Aahh..." I moaned.

"Mmph," she hummed.

Just like the first time, I nearly went blind from the sensation. My arms actually did finally buckle, and my torso fell on top of Mom's. Her soft, fuzzy double-D's cushioned my brief fall, and now our faces were only a couple inches from one another. Now that our bodies were linked, we—a big naked entanglement of skin and fur—laid still for a moment just to take everything in; not just the physical stimulation, but the emotional weight of this moment.

Our first encounter a month earlier happened so quickly that neither one of us was able to fully process what was happening as it unfolded. Hell, I pretty much blacked out for most of it. It was essentially a desperate leap of faith that neither one of us was entirely certain about in the moment. Our bodies were committed, but our minds were still very much on the fence. But this time... this time our bodies and minds were fully synchronized.

I don't know how long this moment of reflection lasted, but I know how much it meant to both of us. We looked into each other's half-lidded eyes, breathing in each other's air. Her bare chest rose and fell beneath me, and her warm walls housed my six inches of desire down below. We took one another in—all of one another—and didn't utter a single word. Honestly, there wasn't anything else that needed to be said. We'd taken a plunge into treacherous, uncharted waters, but we made it to the other side. And now we were going to enjoy the fruits of our labor.

Mom moaned gently when I recoiled my hips and took half my length with them. She moaned again when I pushed it back in. Humping definitely felt new to me, as I'd never moved my hips in such a way before, so I just decided to take it slow and move according to how she reacted. Not like I had the stamina to go fast anyways.

I repeated this slow rhythm a few times. It was so vanilla and amateur, but we were both already reeling from the pleasure of such a simple act.

Like I mentioned before, you would never have thought she was as tight as she was given her age and birthing history. But goddamn... Mom's pussy fit me like a glove. A hot, juicy glove that nearly wouldn't let me go when I would pull back my hips. She covered me tip to base in her arousal, which really helped me relax knowing that she was just as excited as I was.

"Your pussy feels so good, Mom," I moaned.

Her eyes widened at that statement, seemingly shocked at my verbiage. It just kinda slipped out. I didn't mean to sound vulgar or anything; it was just the truth.

"S-sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that," I walked back.

Almost immediately, not wanting me to feel bad, Mom leaned up and licked my cheek.

"It's, it's alright, sweetie. You...can call it that," she affirmed, exhaling deeply with her breath shuddering. Then, I felt her calves wrap around my hips, securing me in place and pulling me in deeper.

She looked at me with a playful smirk and replied with a similar sentiment, "Your cock feels incredible, sweetheart."

It came across as more funny than sexy, but more importantly, it allowed me to decompress a bit. It reminded me that sex didn't always need to be so serious. It was supposed to be fun, even if it was with your mom. But damn, we'd sure come a long way from putting a dollar in the swear jar.

In response to that cute exchange, I unconsciously started humping her a bit faster. I needed more of her, whether I could handle it or not.

In and out of her I went, feeding her hot motherhood her own son's throbbing dick. I was doing it. Actually doing it. I was having sex. And the best part...Mom was enjoying it too.

When I eventually noticed my speed increase, I decided to check in with her. "Ungh, Mom... is... is this speed okay?"

She smiled, biting her bottom lip. "Mmm, yes, baby. More than okay."

I smiled back.

"You... ah, you can go as fast or slow as you need to, honey," she cooed, her violet beams sparkling as she said so.

This was finally what I had fantasized about for so long. The hot, fun, passionate sex with Mom I'd nearly lost my mind over. I never thought it could be possible, but here we were. A mother and son happily tangled in a taboo dance of lust and love.

It felt so fucking good. I wanted to hump her even faster than I was, but my current pace was already writing checks my balls couldn't cash.

Now, as much as we were both enjoying our second—or retry of our first—time together, it's only right that I'm honest about this: I was still pretty awkward and very inexperienced. My humping was okay, but everything else was lacking.

Despite the two of us being fully naked and my penis being buried in her vagina, it still hadn't clicked in my mind that I had permission to touch Mom wherever I wanted. I was free to grope her tits or squeeze her ass to my heart's content, but at this point in time, they still felt off-limits to me. I didn't even think to kiss her. It was a strange duality that I still had yet to move past. And while it, of course, crossed my mind, I felt it would make it even more awkward if I asked.

I think part of this was also due to the power dynamic. Because even though I was on top, I was under no illusion that I was the one in charge. Mom was bigger than me, stronger than me, and could have flipped me on my back and taken control any time she felt like it. To be honest, it felt humbling that such a powerful woman let me have her body like that. She was a queen, and I was a stablehand. She was the CEO, and I was an intern. To be in such a position (between her thighs) was a privilege that my lack of experience didn't have me prepared for in the slightest. Like she said before, skill would come with practice, but for the time being, I wasn't going to overstep any potential boundaries that maybe hadn't been established.

All of that being said, as awkward as I may have felt due to my amateur performance, that had absolutely nothing on how awkward the next bit was. I still cringe just thinking about it. For the sake of posterity, however, I won't spare any detail.

We'd been at it for maybe three minutes when it happened. Everything was going relatively well, and we were both enjoying it.

"Oh, you feel amazing, Heather."

I know. It felt completely wrong the millisecond it left my lips. For whatever reason I concocted in my Neanderthal skull, I called her by her real name. Something that's already incredibly weird for someone to do with their parent at any moment, I decided to do in the middle of sex.

An inquiring look of confusion and bewilderment took over Mom's previous expression of arousal, and my steady humping quickly came to a screeching halt.

Leave it to me to say something so stupid that it had the potential to jeopardize the entirety of the newfound relationship unfolding between my mother and me. You're probably pulling your hair out that I get to be in this situation and not you, and honestly, I don't blame you one bit. I still had a lot to learn.

But by the good grace of some miracle from the universe beyond, the same one who kept saving my sorry ass over and over again and allowing me to be the luckiest son on the planet, Mom took it well.

Her look of shock melted into a comforting smile, and she laughed, "Hehe, what was that?"

I recoiled from her slightly, not enough to pull out, but so that I was now hovering above instead of lying on top of her. "S-sorry. That was really weird. I don't know why I said that."

But looking back at it now, I think I did know. If I had to explain it, I'd say it was the part of my conscience that still didn't accept the fact I was defiling my own mother. It was trying to make this encounter seem more normal than it was. Trying to find a way to rationalize that I was mating with the woman who created me.

She pulled me back down to her, closing the distance I'd just created and taking me fully back inside of her, "Mmph, it's okay, honey. You can still call me "Mom." That hasn't changed. We're just... a little more now."

It's like she could read my mind. She was right. No amount of sex would ever change the fact that she was my mother, and I was her son.

I nodded and sighed with relief, "You're the best mom ever, you know that?"

She giggled again with a cocky grin, "Yeah, I know."

I slowly started to hump her again, thankful I didn't just blow this glorious opportunity.

Mom reached up and pulled my face in for a kiss. Her legs tightened around my thighs as our lips suckled each other's.

"Mmph..."

"Mmm..."

I couldn't believe how much that kiss spiked my pleasure. It felt physically impossible to be any closer to one another than we were in that moment. That was the first time I felt what it was like to be inside of my mom in two ways at once, and it was more than I could take. I was gonna cum.

Our mouths were locked together almost as tightly as our genitals were. Just like last time, every part of me wanted to finish inside of her. My heart and my body begged me to just start spraying, but thankfully, for once, my mind gave it a second thought.

Protection wasn't something Mom and I had discussed yet, as we were both too caught up in deciding whether or not we should even do what we were currently doing at all. After all, the decision to commit incest is just a little bit bigger than whether or not to use a contraceptive. But anyways, there was zero talk of condoms or pulling out prior to this moment. As much as I wanted to, I wasn't going to succumb to my primal instincts. Because if there was anything not to be presumptuous about, it's giving your mother a creampie. And there was definitely no time to ask.

My body surged. I frantically broke our kiss and got up on my hands and knees. Mom's face told me she already knew what was happening the minute I pulled away. Had I delayed literal milliseconds, it would have been too late. But I was just in time.

I pulled my hips outward, her pussy releasing my pulsing shaft from its grasp. I didn't even have time to grab it with my hand and aim.

"Oh, Mom!" I cried out, probably louder than I should have.

My cock began to spew thick globs of semen all over my mother's torso.

"Bradley!" she moaned.

Her groin was the resting place for my unmanned turret. Three ropes pierced her belly, some getting in her navel where we were once connected. Two more shots hit higher, getting on her breasts and even in her neck fur. And finally, after it seemed like there was no stopping it, the final, weaker, more watery rounds dripped out onto the same area of her that I fired from.

I gasped for air, dizzy with my heart nearly exploding. Having to explain that to EMS would be a little difficult.

"Oh, sweetheart..." she whispered, looking down at what I just did all over her. What she just made me do.

I knee-stepped over her leg and collapsed on the bed to her left. I laid on my back and looked up at the ceiling, still hyperventilating and way the hell up on cloud nine.

We both needed a few moments to rest, reflect on what we had just done, and bask in the euphoria of it. In those moments, our minds and bodies were inextricably aligned.

The same questions were running through our heads: Were we quiet enough? Did she/he enjoy it as much as I did? What more can we do?

Side by side, mother and son, we turned our heads and looked at one another. We both smiled between heavy breaths, my chest and her breasts rising and falling at the same pace. My hairless hand found her furry one, and we interlocked our fingers.

After a couple of minutes like that, when our adrenaline and breathing began to stabilize, Mom was the first one to speak.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked compassionately.

I smiled, my face still flustered and sweaty. I looked her curvaceous, nude body up and down and the mess I left on it.

"More than okay," I grinned, calling back to her earlier comment. "Are you okay?" I asked.

She squeezed my hand and her eyes fluttered. "Mhm."

I was delighted to hear that. Not that I had much doubt given how everything went this time around; it was just such a relief to finally be on the same page with her. Despite the extremely taboo box we'd opened, I felt this deep sense of peace wash over me. This was the first time it felt like that in a very long time. There were no more loose ends, no hidden feelings; nothing left unsaid. We figured it out.

Mom rolled onto her side to face me, so I did the same. My orgasm that coated her belly and chest clung to her fur surprisingly well as she did so. Seeing her naked like that still felt like a dream, one I now never wanted to wake up from.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly after a few more moments of silence.

"I've just... never felt anything like that in my life."

I put my hand on her hip, she put hers on my chest.

"Isn't it amazing?" She asked with her eyes half-lidded. "What two people can do with just their bodies?"

I looked deep into my husky mother's gorgeous eyes, getting more flustered.

"It is. And...thank you, Mom. For sharing yours with me like that."

She shuffled a little bit closer and nuzzled against me.

"You don't have to thank me, baby. We did that together. As a team."

"Well, I'm really thankful to be on your team."

"Hehe, so am I, love."

We lay there quietly for a few more minutes, lightly caressing one another and simply enjoying the view of each other's natural, naked bodies. I wouldn't know how else to describe bliss.

Mom looked down and slowly traced her finger around her belly button, swirling one of the globs of semen I shot onto her belly. "You know, I carried you in here for nine months," she said. My load decorated her torso, from her groin to up between her breasts. "You were always so busy in there. Your brother and sister never kicked nearly as much as you did."

I locked my fingers with hers again. "Heh, really?"

She giggled, "Yep. You could just never sit still for some reason." She looked back up to lock eyes with me once again. "I was so happy to see you when you came out. You were happy and healthy. My beautiful little human boy."

I just smiled and listened.

"But once I couldn't feel your kicks anymore, I felt like I was missing something. I felt so far from you all of a sudden. You were out in the world with me, but you weren't a part of me anymore." Mom slowly pushed her muzzle against my lips, slipping her tongue into my mouth. She kissed me for a few moments before slowly breaking the seal and resting her forehead against mine. She glanced down at the love I sprayed all over her bare body. "Now... you don't feel so far away anymore..." she smiled, becoming slightly teary-eyed.

I was slightly taken aback by her words. Up until that point, I'd mainly focused on the physical and lustful aspects of sex. I didn't realize how it could bring up so many emotions, not until Mom said those words. I didn't really know what to say, so I just followed my heart.

"I... I love you, Mom."

She closed the gap between our lips and kissed me passionately.

"I love you too, sweetheart. With all of my heart," she paused briefly, "And...all of my body now too, I suppose."

We both chuckled, still not used to this new element of our relationship, but quickly becoming quite fond of it, no doubt.

We lay there a while longer, in the nude, enjoying each other's company in a way we never had before that night. Mom had cleaned herself up a bit by this point (well, as much as you can clean cum out of fur without hot water) using her bathrobe. The crickets chirped outside, and the ceiling fan continued to hum. My brother and sister slept in their rooms, my father was sleeping somewhere, and not one of them had any idea what was unfolding in their own family circle.

"Hey, Mom?" I asked quietly as to not overly disturb the calm silence.

I could tell she was tired, or at the very least relaxed. So was I.

"What is it, honey?" she replied.

"Do you think... I could sleep here with you tonight?"

She gave me a look that sort of read, "Are you serious?" It made me nervous that I may have overstepped again.

"I know we have to be careful. I could get up early before Benny and Jess so that they don't notice."

Her lack of verbal response was making me even more anxious. So like usual, I just kept talking.

"I get that it's risky; I just...I really want to stay here with you. Going back to my room, alone... I just—"

I was shushed by my mother's fuzzy index finger, accompanied by a caring smirk.

"Baby, of course you can sleep with me. You didn't think I was gonna kick you out after that, did you?" she asked, making me feel silly.

I chuckled nervously, "No, no. I just...well, I didn't want to assume anything. Sorry...."

She put her hand on my upper arm. "It's okay, I understand. You are right, though, Bradley. We do need to be careful."

She paused for a moment before confirming, "I think as long as we're both in our own rooms in the morning, we should be fine."

That's what I was hoping she'd say.

She brushed her nose against mine, batting her eyes at me afterwards.

"Would you mind turning off the lights, honey?" she requested.

At this point, she could probably ask me to do literally anything, and I would. I quickly popped out of bed before reaching up and pulling the shortest cord on the ceiling fan. While I did that, Mom flipped open the bed sheets so we could both reconvene underneath them. And after the room went dark, that's what we did.

I hadn't really slept with anyone before besides the occasional sharing of a bed on trips with buddies or while camping. So when it came to sleeping with my bare naked mother, I wasn't too sure how to proceed.

"Goodnight, Mom. I love you," I whispered before rolling onto my side, facing away from her.

She whispered back, "I love you too, sweetheart. Goodnight."

I felt a little weird being in the same bed without touching at all. I wanted to cuddle, but again, I still had this underlying discomfort that prevented me from taking the lead on such gestures. Thankfully, however, Mom didn't have the same discomfort.

It wasn't long before I felt her rustle up behind and intertwine herself with me. Her arm slipped under mine, and one of her legs swung over to rest between both of my legs. Then, I felt her nuzzle her face into the back of my neck and hair, her gentle, warm

breath giving me goosebumps.

This was the spooning position I'd only seen in movies, and Mom had just generously crossed it off my intimacy bucket list (along with a number of other things, of course). I'd always imagined myself in the place of the big spoon, but quite honestly, being the small spoon to a big, soft, and nude she-wolf was way better.

And so, that evening, I fell asleep to the comfort of Mom enveloping me from behind, her warm, furry breasts compressing up against my back and the lovely curvature of her belly, groin, and thighs cradling my lower half. I don't remember for certain since I was extremely exhausted, but I'm pretty sure I dozed off with a big grin on my face.

I woke up in the early morning, around 6am. I was still cuddled up with Mom, which I initially thought was a dream in the low-sleep grogginess I felt. It was a cloudy day, thankfully, as we forgot to shut the curtains before going to bed, and a sunny, clear sky would've made my early awakening even more rude. Despite how easily I could've gone back to sleep and how not a single part of me wanted to leave Mom's embrace, I had the sense to get up and head back to my room so that nobody could catch wind of our incestuous escapade.

I moved just carefully enough that I didn't seem to wake her. The carpet muffled my footsteps as I gathered my discarded clothing and headed towards the exit. Then, almost like I was infiltrating a base in a spy movie, I peeked out into the hallway, cartoonishly snapping my head both ways to make sure no one was around. The coast was clear. Operation "Fuck My Mom's Pussy" was successful; no casualties, no witnesses.

Just before I left, I took one last look at her. The most beautiful woman in the world. The woman I fornicated with only a few hours earlier. The woman who was my mother.

I crossed the hall and entered my room. You would think I would immediately flop down on my bed and crash—so did I. But as soon as I walked in, I had a revelation. There was one last thing I needed to do.

In the darkness, I navigated my way over to my desk. I cracked open my laptop, the screen blinding me as it came to life. There were no pauses, no hesitations, and no doubts about this task at hand. My objective was clear. My mind made up.

I took the mouse and highlighted the folder with all of Mom's nude photos. The ones that I'd obsessed over for months, the ones Mom had taken privately for my father, the ones I wrongfully stole off her phone... the ones that started all of this. I dragged the folder to the recycling bin, dropped them in, and emptied it all within five seconds.

They were gone. Just like that.

I closed my laptop and climbed into bed.

I didn't need them anymore.